Emotional Disturbance
by Bookwrm389
Summary: "As far as companions went, Fi was incredibly helpful and often understanding of his failures, but he doubted someone like her would comprehend why he was so upset over a little rip in his sailcloth." Link/Zelda, friendship Link/Fi. Skyward Sword verse.


_A.N. This story has gone through about three title changes because I really had no idea where I was going with it until I was close to finishing. It started out with an idea about the sailcloth and Link angsting over Zelda, then somehow morphed into Fi and Link shared angst, which delved into a minor exploration of Fi's character and some good old-fashioned hurt/comfort._

_Honestly, I blame Fi. Even though she's an emotionally stunted robot who is of absolutely no help during gameplay, I can't help but love her for it because her lack of personality makes every interaction with Link an absolute riot. My favorite quote of hers is that moment when you enter the fire sanctuary, and Fi says, "I recommend you look for flames."_

Emotional Disturbance

There was a rip in the sailcloth.

Link leaned back against the backdoor of the Sealed Temple and slowly sank to the dirt with the precious sailcloth spread across his lap, threading the heavy white canvas through his fingers, stunned by what he was seeing. It wasn't much to look at. The rip was tiny, no bigger than his thumbnail. Just a little spot at the edge of the blue wing design where the material had worn thin and begun to come apart. But he couldn't stop staring at it, and he even stuck his pinky through it just to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks.

No, he could see that it was real. And just by prodding it, he was tearing it open further until the misshapen hole was the size of a small coin. Link left it alone and obsessively analyzed every square inch of the sailcloth for further damage. What he saw shamed him. The edges were frayed, and he could see other places where more snagged threads were coming loose. The once-spotless white canvas was blemished by grass and dirt stains from the number of times he had thrown it around his shoulders to ward off the night chill, and the vivid blue design of outspread wings was faded from the sun and now looked more like a pale, stormy gray.

Link buried his face in the sailcloth, inhaling deeply, and his throat grew tight. It stank of the surface and his own sweat. There was nothing left of Zelda's smell—that heady, intoxicating scent of sun and wind and feathers that made him think of soaring through the endless summer skies on his Loftwing.

Disgusted, Link cast the sailcloth aside and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, glowering at his boots. What was wrong with him? Why hadn't he taken proper care of it? All this time traveling with it, depending on it to see him safely from Skyloft to the surface and back again, and now look at the condition it was in. Zelda would be furious when she saw how badly he had treated her gift to him.

That is, _if_ she ever got a chance to see it...

_I'll see you again! This isn't goodbye, Link! I promise!_

Behind him, a musical chiming came from his sword hilt. The spirit of his sword materialized before him, fluid and ethereal, and Fi gazed down on him with a slight frown and what could be classified as an expression of concern. She had once told him that while she felt no true emotions, other people were more at ease around her if she pretended otherwise. Actually, her exact wording had been, _My analysis indicates that, among human society, it is acceptable to display a facsimile of one's true emotional state if doing so will prevent undue discomfort or conflict._

Link had pointed out some people might find that deceitful and be hurt by the sham. Fi had merely looked at him and inquired politely, _But Master, is this not the same method you employ when interacting with the young woman in the Skyloft bazaar? _

"Master, you do not appear to be well," Fi said in her lilting voice.

"Gee, I wonder why?" Link said dryly, and he quickly waved his hand when Fi made as if to reply. "Sorry, sarcasm. I'm...fine, Fi. Really, I'm okay."

Fi turned slightly, gazing on the discarded sailcloth at his side, and Link almost had the urge to grab it and hide the evidence of his misery from her. As far as companions went, Fi was incredibly helpful and often understanding of his failures, but he doubted someone like her would comprehend why he was so upset over a little rip in his sailcloth. It was just...he had _promised _Zelda he would take good care of it. Back in Skyloft, it had been so easy to make her happy and give her everything she wanted. She wanted the last slice of his dessert? Done. She wanted him to win the Wing Ceremony? Done. She wanted him to fly around the clouds with her? Done.

But ever since the day they had been brought to the surface, Link could only offer her one failure after another. The one time it had actually _mattered_ and Zelda had actually _needed _him, he had been too late. Would have been too late. And that harsh truth ate at him like a slow-acting poison. He couldn't keep Zelda safe. He couldn't even keep the stupid sailcloth from coming to harm.

"Master Link," Fi began slowly, which was unlike her in many ways. "Based on my observations, you do not appear to be in any sort of physical distress that would account for your current state of lassitude. Although such a state would be understandable given your recent battle yesterday morning..."

Link flinched. Oh, she just _had _to remind him of that. He was glad they were behind the Sealed Temple now and nowhere near that damn pit where his nightmare had sprung to life, a menacing figure of black scales and jagged teeth and raw _power_ that had made his knees buckle just to stand before it. Link had no idea how he managed to stop it when, at the moment it broke free, he had never been more tempted to throw aside his sword and cower in terror. Groose had been way ahead of him in that regard, and even the old woman had pressed her hands to her heart as if the aged organ might simply give out then and there.

"...but you have assured me many times that you are fully recovered and prepared to embark on your search for the sacred flames," Fi went on without seeming to notice his reaction. "And so, I must conclude you are experiencing some form of emotional disturbance. As you are well aware, I cannot offer a way to remedy that disturbance until I have a better understanding of what has caused it."

"You really can't tell what's bothering me?" Link asked sourly. "And no, I'm _not_ being sarcastic this time. You honestly can't take a guess?"

Fi seemed to think about that, her head tilted just slightly in a way that Link had learned was the closest she would ever come to confusion. Often, that look was directed at him. "In fact, Master, I can. Within the past few days, you have experienced several periods of traumatic upheaval. Your recent encounter with the Imprisoned, for example, or your forced separation from the spirit maiden in Lanayru Desert, although I conclude a 74% percent chance that it is the former you are more troubled with."

"Why do you say that?"

"The event happened far more recently," Fi pointed out. "And forgive me, Master, but the chances of failure were considerably higher. Understandably, you have forbidden me from stating exactly how high the probability of failure is during conditions of high stress."

Link quirked his lips at the reminder. It wasn't exactly a fond memory. Standing in the middle of a volcanic mountain, facing a creature that could only be classified as a fireball with legs, Link had stupidly and jokingly asked Fi what the odds were of finding a handy lake they could drown this thing in. Fi had replied with a flat six percent, to which Link had shouted furiously that he didn't want to hear it unless the odds were strictly _one hundred_ percent.

"Master, am I correct in my analysis?"

"Yeah, I guess you are," Link said with a sigh. "But it's not just the Imprisoned, it's...it's everything. I've won a lot of battles here on the surface, but it never seems to be enough. It all just reminds me that I haven't really won yet. I never get any closer to understanding what it is Zelda needs me to do. And it doesn't help that every time I see her, she's already heading off somewhere else and can't take the time to explain anything. Or _won't_ take the time..."

He trailed off, sunk into his own depressed thoughts of the last time he had seen Zelda before she vanished through the Gate of Time in the desert. Gone. Completely beyond his reach. Maybe forever.

"I understand, Master Link," Fi said, studying him with that perceptive, and yet utterly impassive gaze. "In the face of such setbacks, it is only logical that you would experience a degree of unhappiness, and even resentment. But I have faith in your strength of spirit, as well as your compassionate nature, and I beg that you will not allow such feelings to cloud your judgment and perhaps weaken your resolve to aid the spirit maiden..."

"What?" Link blurted out, unsure if he had heard wrong. "Wait a minute, what do you mean by that? Cloud my judgment? Weaken my resolve?"

"Please correct me if I am mistaken," Fi said diffidently. "But upon further analysis, it now appears much of your current distress stems directly from Zelda's actions. Or rather her failure to justify those actions in a way that you find satisfactory."

"And you think because of that, it means I don't want to help her anymore?" Link said, aghast.

Fi looked again at the crumpled sailcloth. "Based on what I have observed...I fear the likelihood of that has gone from improbable to merely unlikely."

He looked down at the sailcloth and snatched it out of the dirt, leaping to his feet in a sudden rage. "Because of _this?_ Just because of this, you think—I'd _never _abandon Zelda! How can you even accuse me of something like that?"

Fi immediately retreated from him a short distance, head bowed contritely, but the utter lack of change in her expression just made him even more furious. "I apologize, Master Link. I see my evaluation was inaccurate."

"Damn right, it was!" Link snapped. He stalked up to her and thrust a finger in her face. "Quit pretending you actually understand what I'm feeling! You said it yourself that you're not human! You have no idea what I'm going through, and you never will! So why do you even bother? Or did the goddess tell you it was alright to toy with my emotions as long as it kept me from quitting and going back to Skyloft?"

He expected her to say something, whether an apology or yet another statistical breakdown. He did _not _expect Fi to meet his eyes in utter silence and then turn her head aside, a very clear indication that the answer was a resounding _yes_. Link froze, all the blood draining from his face, and he stepped back like he'd been physically struck.

"Fi, you...you haven't been...have you?"

There was no answer from the sword spirit. A flood of memories hit him, of their first meeting beneath the statue of the goddess. So many little statements that Link had dismissed at the time and only now were beginning to add up, weaving together a web from which he couldn't escape.

_The one you seek, honorable Zelda, is still alive..._

_Does that information invigorate you? Are you ready to accept this sword?_

_It seems further persuasive measures will not be required..._

"It is my duty to ensure the chosen hero fulfills the destiny set before him by my creator," Fi said flatly, "by whatever means possible."

Link didn't stop to think, he just struck, his fist lashing out at the delicate blue form that had just admitted to manipulating him like a mere tool. But his knuckles met only empty air, passing right through the unnaturally smooth cheek and distorting it like a reflection on water. Thrown off balance, Link ended up stumbling straight through the insubstantial sword spirit and nearly colliding with the wall behind her, his palms smacking into the solid barrier and saving his nose from being broken. He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, the wrath that had crashed through him only seconds ago evaporating and leaving him empty. Link stared at his hand in disbelief, his knuckles unscathed when a punch like that should have left them bruised. Fi really _wasn't _human.

A horrible thought hit him. What if he had been wrong? What if she _had _been human? Link cursed and pressed his hand over his face, sickened. He had never believed himself capable of hurting an innocent person, let alone a completely defenseless woman, but he had just proved that theory wrong in a most spectacular way. What would Zelda have thought if she saw that?

"Master Link," Fi said, and even though there was absolutely no reproof in her voice, he winced anyway.

"I hit you," Link whispered.

"Master, I am not harmed," Fi assured him. "Indeed, it is quite impossible to cause injury to this holographic image I project. My entire being exists within your sword, and due to the hallowed weapon's nearly indestructible nature..."

"That's not the _point!_" Link shouted, pounding his fist on the wall. He turned to face her, stricken. "Fi, I _hit _you! After everything you've done for me...you've done nothing but _help_ me, and I...I let my anger get the best of me. That's not something I can _do_ as a knight. What I did was unforgivable!"

Fi tilted her head again. Trying to understand him again. "Your customs dictate that for one human to harm another, it is unlawful. For a man in a position of authority to harm a woman or child, it surpasses unlawful and becomes immoral. The visual manifestation of myself is that of a woman, and therefore, you feel you have committed a grave sin."

"Yeah, you could say that," Link said shakily, and somehow it made him feel worse that she _wasn't _upset with him. "Fi, I'm so sorry..."

"No apology is necessary, Master. As you have said, I am not human. Your customs and laws do not apply to me."

"The hell they don't! You were created by the goddess just like I was! That makes you human enough!"

Fi was silent for a moment. "That is...a curiously sound assessment," she remarked. "However, I am now at a loss. By your own appraisal, my human reaction should be to demand an apology of the one who has wronged me and offer my forgiveness. Yet from our previous discussion on the matter, I know you find such emotional pretense to be dishonest and a form of betrayal. Consequently, I see no way to remedy our current situation in a manner you would find acceptable."

Link just shook his head helplessly, refusing to look at her. He didn't know what to do either. Part of him was still hurt by Fi's blatant confession that not only did she lack a heart, but she also had no qualms about using his own against him. But...could she help the way she had been created? That was like blaming his Loftwing for being born with crimson feathers.

Slowly, Link pushed off the wall and approached her, curiosity getting the better of him. From all angles, Fi looked perfectly solid. Even her swirling capes seemed to flutter in the light breeze, but when Link raised his hand to touch her face, his fingertips met no resistance, and the skin seemed to shimmer and break apart like a mirage.

"I can't touch you," Link murmured, partly fascinated and partly disappointed. "I never realized..."

Fi did not react to his touch at all, even when she began to speak and her bottom lip went right through his thumb. "I project this image so that you might have a human-like form to interact with rather than a mere voice. I possess no true physical form, aside from the sword that is my container."

"So how do you see and hear?" Link asked her. "How can we be talking now?"

"My creator granted me the ability to record audible sounds and sense the auras of various objects and entities in my surroundings," Fi explained. "Very similar to sonar, or to dowsing, which you may be more familiar with. Also when you hold the goddess sword drawn in your hand, I am able to perceive the world from your perspective and experience a far greater range of senses. I believe they are what you humans call sight, touch and scent."

Link blinked in surprise. So Fi could only truly see through _his _eyes? The thought that there were actually _two_ people inside his head was so alien that, as Groose might say, it threatened to implode his mind. But then the full ramifications hit him. "Wait a minute. Are you saying...does that mean you've never seen my face?"

"I have not, Master," Fi said, heedless of his dismayed reaction. "I have seen others of your race from your perspective, and my databanks possess recorded images of humans from your ancestry, which allows me to construct a rough outline of the physical features you may possess. The probability of my calculations being accurate is about 37%."

Link slowly let his hand drop back to his side, troubled. "But why did the goddess make you this way? Why didn't she give you emotions and senses like any other human? I mean...you're missing out on a lot of great things. I've never even heard you laugh."

Fi said nothing for so long that Link thought she simply didn't have an answer. Then he worried he might have offended her and had to remind himself that she didn't even know what "offended" felt like. It was so strange having a sword for a guide.

"I suspect it was for precisely this situation, Master," Fi said at long last. "Because the goddess sword must be wielded by a human, the guide within the sword must be infallible to that which may cause a human to go astray. Had I the capacity to feel emotion, there is a 91% chance I would have reacted badly to your earlier violent outburst and allowed it to form a rift between us. But I cannot become angry or unhappy. I cannot become resentful. I cannot be turned against you or refuse to offer my aid. My only desire is to see our task completed to the best of our separate abilities."

"So you're a slave," Link said, swallowing against the bitter taste in his mouth.

"I am what I was created to be," Fi corrected him. "As are you."

Link snorted, hands on his hips. "Then maybe the goddess would have done better to make me into a mindless servant too. Just brainwash me into doing whatever she wanted and never giving me a choice in the matter..."

"On the contrary, I believe that would have resulted in disaster," Fi said, catching him off guard. "If I lack the will to refuse my calling, then I also lack the fortitude to see it through even in the face of insurmountable odds. In our travels together, I have learned that the human spirit is a truly incredible thing, and it is for that very quality you have become the chosen champion of the goddess."

She ducked her head again, and Link thought her vacant eyes might have softened a tiny bit. "I hope now, Master, that you see why it is imperative for me to have some influence on your emotional wellbeing. To guide, but also to encourage. To understand what drives you, and conversely, what disheartens you so that I may increase the former and diminish the latter insofar as I am able."

"Yeah, I think I get it now," Link murmured. He dropped his gaze to the sailcloth still in his hand, brushing the wing design with his fingers, and he had to laugh quietly. "It's what you're doing now, isn't it? Making me feel sorry for you so I forget I was ever angry in the first place?"

Fi frowned again, and the expression was so petulant that Link laughed even louder. "It's okay, don't worry about it. I guess it doesn't matter if you're still manipulating me or not. The truth is, even if you hadn't come to me back in Skyloft, I still would have gone to look for Zelda. I wouldn't have known _where_ to look, but I would have gone anyway. You're the only reason I was able to find her at all. I can't be mad at you for that, and I can't be mad at Zelda either. She never asked for this any more than I did."

"I see no reason to doubt your conclusion, Master," Fi replied, which was a phrase Link rarely heard from her. For the third time, her head tilted. "I am detecting a marked alteration in your aura and tone of voice that indicates your mood has improved. Has your emotional disturbance been remedied?"

Link almost rolled his eyes. "Yes, Fi. My 'emotional disturbance' is remedied. Come on, let's go back to Skyloft and see about finding those sacred flames."

"As you wish, Master," Fi said at once, and her form immediately dissolved into a ball of light that vanished into his sword hilt. Link carefully folded up the sailcloth in his arms, reminding himself to find a really good seamstress as soon as he got home, and he started to make his way over to the bird statue that would let him summon a gust of wind to carry him to the sky. But on his way there, Link paused by a deep puddle in the path, a remnant of the rain that must have fallen just before he and Groose descended into Faron Woods. There were small birds drinking from it that fluttered away as soon as he approached, the ripples gradually fading until the water was as flat and still as a mirror.

Link drew his sword. The hilt pulsed with light. "Master?"

He knelt at the edge of the pond with the sword point first in the dirt beside him, fixing his eyes on his reflection. "Just so you know," he told her with a small smile, "this is what I look like."

"...thank you, Master Link," Fi said after a moment. "I have recorded this image and made it a permanent part of my databanks."

"Good," Link said, rising and sheathing his sword. But even as he did that, Fi popped out of the hilt again and hovered just in front of him.

"If I may, Master, I would like to tell you that I have learned a great deal from you since we began this journey."

"You have?"

"I have added considerably to the data that the goddess initially granted me, particularly in the areas of human psychology," Fi informed him. "Much of this was learned from observation of you and such enlightening conversations as the one we had earlier. My estimation of my creator's choice of champion has also risen. I now calculate the probability of you completing your mission has increased by 15% percent."

"Oh," Link said, pleased and also amused by her statement. "Well, that's good! But now you've got me curious...what was it before?"

"It was at 83% before our most recent conversation."

Link stopped in his tracks, rapidly adding up the math in his head. "That's...that's almost a hundred percent now," he said, incredulous.

Fi graced him with a small and very enigmatic smile. "Yes, Master. It is."


End file.
